


noone's gonna stop you

by orphan_account



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: (for chap 2), (from stella + phil), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Self-Destruction, heavy on hurt, set directly after 18/11/19's ep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 22:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21483823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He thinks of Martin, of all those years ago. Completely helpless, waiting for someone to come and save him.Never again, he’d told himself, and yet. And yet.Or: Ben kind of self destructs.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54





	noone's gonna stop you

Ben runs.

He doesn’t know where or even who to go to; he rushes out of the house, past a half-asleep and vaguely concerned looking Bobby. The heavy pound of his feet against the pavement rings in his ears, thunders against his ribcage. He can hardly even think, lets his feet guide him blindly to- anywhere but _ there. _

The spot where Kathy slapped him still stings. Even amongst the fuzzy kind of numb the alcohol brings, it’s like he can still feel it, could press his hand to the very spot and recount the split second of shock. The split second where he’d thought  _ she wouldn’t,  _ she wouldn’t do that to him. Knowing what he’s been through, knowing-

_ Life’s so unfair.  _ Always so quick to make excuses. Never anyone’s fault but theirs, because what has he ever done wrong other than get thrown around. Stella and Phil and yeah even  _ Kathy- _ always them, always them. And Ben’s tried the blame game for years, has looked upon bruises and faint burn scars and a face in the mirror that may never truly smile and thought  _ this was him, this was her. _

Too cowardly to admit that maybe he’d just been  _ asking for it.  _ Too weak to defend himself time and time again, and here he is now. Twenty three years of life, too many of them spent in self-induced suffering.

And here’s the thing; despite it all people like Kathy are still good. People like Phil still end up with love. People like Stella at least end up  _ remembered. _

But people like Ben- people like Ben don’t  _ deserve  _ that. He’s burned all his bridges, severed all the ties and this is all he knows to do. Drive yourself into a corner. Hide within yourself, throw away the key- then wonder why noone’s looking for you. Maybe it’s the simple fact that Ben’s sick of people trying. Sick of people who are too good for him trying to get to that part of him that he’s promised never to show again. Because people get hurt.

He thinks of Martin, of all those years ago. Completely helpless, waiting for someone to come and save him.

_ Never again,  _ he’d told himself, and yet. And yet.

And hey, at least with Martin he’s made a point. Stella’s still closure ripped from him. Phil’s still the closure that’s always so out of reach.

And Callum-

Ben breathes heavily, skidding to a stop against the brick walls of some hidden alleyway near the Albert. He slides down the surface of it slowly, wishes the drag were enough to distract from that persistent sting against his cheek.

He doesn’t want to think about Callum.

Because the truth of it is that he’s always been the one caught up in this. Callum knows what he wants now. It’s just Ben, pushing and pulling and sending too many mixed signals, letting Callum trip amongst crossed wires. Letting it all happen. And Callum doesn’t deserve that, he knows.

Callum deserves better. Better than what Ben could ever give him.

There’s other men- other, gentler people. Who don’t have secrets to hide, who love without hesitation. They’re everything Ben isn’t, and Callum has to realise that one day. That Ben is just unloveable, all by his own faults. Still that scared little boy who always goes too far, who tears himself apart just to prove a point.

Ben realises too late he’s crying. 

The tears that slide down his face leave burning trails in their wake, the smallest distraction from the biting cold around him. Ben tries to stop it, presses his knuckles to his eyelids until it hurts, but still they won’t stop. He chokes off a sob, trying so desperately not to break right then and there. But the dam’s broken, and Ben can’t stop the broken half-noise that tears itself from his throat, shattering the silence.

And from there it’s like he can’t just  _ stop.  _ His forehead falls against the wall with a too-loud thud, knuckles bloodied from the force of his punches against it. He screams and sobs and yet none of it feels enough, feels the rawness of his throat and sting of his hand with every movement and thinks this isn’t close to what he deserves.

Half-collapsed against the wall, head pounding, Ben catches sight of a crowd of drunks stumbling out of a pub, all sharp cackling laughter. The type to get drunk on a Monday night.

He hardly thinks twice before lunging forward right at them, all puffy-eyed hysteria and stinging knuckles already raised.

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys!! real quick one here lmao, wrote it out before going to bed so maybe not the best? pt 2 will be out.. soon! hope yall enjoyed <3
> 
> @caimitcheii on twt, @smalltalksmp3 on tumblr if u ever wanna chat!


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